Relative Malice (10 page)

Paula twisted her mouth in a grimace. “How would it pick up blood if it was hiding? Assuming there was any blood.”

“Won’t hurt to check it out.”

“You know, we’re only giving this so much time because an officer lives across the hall.”

Bitch.
Burnham’s sour personality made her unpopular among the detectives and right now the woman’s attitude was pissing Kendall off. Kendall knew she had nothing to gain by rising to the bait.

“I know. I appreciate it, Paula.” Kendall hung on to the squirming cat as the tech took samples from its paw.

Morrie walked in carrying a large piece of plywood. “Kendall, glad you’re here. Can’t believe this happened. We didn’t hear a dang thing downstairs. Guess your neighbor was on one of her night walks when it happened.”

“Convenient for whoever broke in.”

“I’m just going to nail this on the door for now.” He put down the board. “Not sure she’ll want to stay here tonight, though.”

“She can stay with me.” Did that come from her lips? Kendall was shocked at her offer; she’d never been much of a “girlfriend” person. A tomboy since adolescence, she’d clung to that role, stifling any scrap of developing femininity.

“You might want to think about a way to make the back entry to the apartments more secure,” she suggested.

“You’re right. I need to do that.”

After the police presence left, Kendall watched as Morrie nailed the board in place. “Gotta be careful with this. I don’t want to make the break worse. I’m hoping it can be repaired.”

“It’ll be pricey,” Kendall said. “You’ll need a stained glass expert—one that specializes in restorations.”

“Cheaper to get a new door. Hate to change only one, though, especially this one. I’ll check around. This should tide her over for now.” The board covered the bottom half of the stained glass window.

Morrie locked up behind them as they left.

Kendall found Nash and Brynn waiting for her in the hallway, Brynn still bundled up in his coat. She handed Malkin to Brynn and opened the door to her apartment, where Nash settled Brynn on the sofa with a down comforter wrapped around her thin body.

He took in the boxes stacked against the wall. “Moving in or out?”

“Not sure yet.”

He nodded as if understanding her indecision.

“Maybe this break-in will convince you I’m right about the incidents with Gray,” Kendall said. “They’re all related and they aren’t about union problems.”

“You think someone was sending you a message by breaking in right across the hall? If that’s the case, then why not your place?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Brynn’s door was too inviting to pass up.” She threw her coat over the boxes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m back to new assignments tomorrow, anyway.”

“Keep an open mind. This could be a random break-in,” he said.

Kendall doubted it, but didn’t argue the point. “I don’t know about you, Mr. Nashlund, but I never had supper. I’m ordering a pizza if you’re interested.”

“Mr. Nashlund? Shit, only my son’s teachers call me that. Call me Nash.”

She sighed. “Kendall.”

By the time the pie arrived, Brynn, who’d insisted on mushrooms, was sleeping. Kendall and Nash tucked into the pizza. When they’d finished eating, Nash said, “I’d really appreciate it if you worked with me on this. I think we’ll have a better chance of finding the Glausson baby if we work together.”

His polite phrasing caught Kendall off guard. She agreed before her memories of the day she was shot, returned. “My time will be limited. I’m only supposed to be working the baby angle in my spare time.”

“What’s your next move?”

“I’m not sure. Known pedophiles? Baby brokers?”

“We need a good computer person.”

“You know what I have to work with—and he’s off this week. The Feds would be the best source for that.”

“No way. We’ll think of something.” He stood and picked up his coat. “I better take off. Unless you need me for anything.”

She pointed to Brynn. Nash carried her to the bed, where Kendall took off her shoes and hoodie, then covered her with the quilt.

He gave Kendall a quick two-fingered wave as he walked out the bedroom door. “I’ll be in touch.”

15

Thursday

Brynn woke to find herself in a strange room. She looked out the window and saw the view hadn’t changed; the same trees lined the bluff behind the building. She sat up in bed and remembered her beautiful apartment. The sanctuary she’d made for herself had been destroyed. But she’d fixed it up once; she could do it again.

A note propped on the bureau alerted Brynn that Kendall had gone out to buy pies and wine for her family’s Thanksgiving dinner and would be back after she stopped at the station.

Brynn had somewhere to go for the holiday meal, but hadn’t taken advantage of it since she left home. She had no desire to see her mother. One sumptuous dinner wasn’t enough to entice her to visit her childhood home, even though her parole officer advised Brynn she should never burn all her bridges; she might need her mother someday.

Kendall’s living room looked just like it had the night before, filled with packing boxes, a few items of clothing tossed about, and a pizza box on the counter next to her laptop. Brynn had been too tired and stressed to eat pizza with Kendall and Nash when it was fresh. She raised the lid of the pizza box and saw two pieces left in the box. Breakfast.

She sat at the counter eating the pizza and staring at the open laptop in front of her. She hadn’t used a computer in a very long time. Being this close to one again made her palms itch. She placed a tentative finger on the touchpad; the screen lit up. Sliding her fingers across the surface of the keys, she thought of the massive world residing right there inside the computer’s slick, metallic exterior. Last night after they thought she was asleep, she’d heard Kendall and Nash discussing what they needed. Brynn could help them find the baby.

Her moral dilemma tugged at her while she ate. If she helped Kendall, she’d be violating her parole. But she liked Kendall and Nash, and she wanted to help them find out who had the baby. She picked up the laptop and carried it to a small chair next to the window where she could keep an eye on the parking lot. Brynn flexed her fingers and began tapping the keys.

It was quiet in the station. This early on a holiday morning, the detectives’ division was deserted. There had already been a shift change and apparently those on duty were out. Kendall finished some reports she’d been putting off and got up to leave when she noticed the two laptops on her desk, next to them a note from Joe. They belonged to two of Sienna Glausson’s friends who’d admitted getting the virgin email ads. Not surprisingly, the department and the FBI had gotten nothing from them.

Kendall stared at the laptops, one a shiny metallic red, the other a somber, gunmetal gray. Bringing evidence home could result in discipline. But the laptops had already been searched. Technically, they weren’t evidence at the moment. Kendall’s eyes scanned the room before placing both laptops into her briefcase.

She walked out just as her father appeared at the top of the stairway.

“Figured I’d find you here. Don’t you answer your phone anymore?”

“You know I’ve been busy.” The downside of having a retired cop as a father, Jim Halsrud could walk in whenever he wanted, and he always knew every step of her career.

“How long does a call take?”

Kendall walked to her car, her father following at her side.

“You do know what day—”

She cut him off. “It’s Thanksgiving, and yes, I bought the pies and the wine. The usual: one pumpkin, one apple, one bottle of white wine, and one of red.”

“Are you coming to the house now?”

“Now?” He didn’t usually push her like this. “It’s only ten in the freakin’ morning.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that there’s someone coming today who I want you to meet, so I’d like you to be there before dinner.”

“Your chick-of-the-month? Wouldn’t miss it.” Kendall opened the door of the car and carefully placed her heavy briefcase behind the seat.

“Kenny, come on. Quit busting my chops about the women I date. I’m having fun, which is something I didn’t get much of when your mother was around.”

Kendall felt her blood pressure rising. “No one asked you to stay married to her, Dad. You chose to put up with all her shit, so quit acting like a martyr.”

Still talking, he backed away from the car as she started the engine. He raised his voice. “I can’t change the past, Kenny. I’ll see you later. We’ll have dinner at about two.”

Driving back to the apartment, Kendall cooled down. She hadn’t had the worst childhood, hadn’t been abused, locked in a closet, or gone without anything. But watching her father kiss her mother’s lily white ass all those years had been hard to take. The two of them put so much into their relationship games, there’d been little left for Kendall.

Her mother, obsessed with appearances, had made life hell for her father until he’d bought the bi-level in Oak Ridge to make her happy—a house that on a cop’s salary was a huge drain on the family finances. And worse, her mother never appreciated it; nothing ever satisfied her craving to move up in the world. Too bad that hadn’t been her only craving. Her other vice had changed her daughter’s life forever. The thing that happened when Kendall was a teenager? Unforgiveable.

Despite it all, her father stayed with her mother. Kendall had been long gone from home when her mother finally left her father. He’d been miserable afterward, but once he got over it, he acted like he couldn’t get enough of dating as many women as possible. The man had gone from one extreme to another.

When she got back to the apartment, Brynn, along with two strangers Kendall later found out were maintenance workers sent up by Morrie, was hard at work putting her apartment back in order. She stayed for a while lending a hand, then left to get ready to leave for her father’s.

Kendall didn’t recognize the strange car parked in her father’s driveway, a late-model Cadillac. The new woman must have a lucrative job, or be a well-alimonied divorcee. Kendall stepped into her father’s kitchen: a woman stood in front of the stove next to Jim, who was stirring something in a large kettle. Dressed for the holiday, she wore a long sweater covered with turkeys, cornucopias, and Pilgrims. The lower half of her generous body was wedged into a pair of black leggings. When they turned to her, Kendall was aghast to see the woman was Maggie Cottingham, attorney/investigator from hell. There was no doubt in her mind the witch had glommed onto her father for only one reason—to get closer to the Glausson investigation.

Her father made the introductions, oblivious to Kendall’s negative body language. He had to have known this would piss her off.

After mulling over her options and deciding to contain her anger, Kendall said, “Nice to meet you.” and left the room, looking for her Uncle Al. She found him in front of the TV set in the lower lever of the bi-level home, where he’d taken up residence with her father when his wife died. It had been a welcome relief to her father, who’d been having a hard time with the house payments since he retired.

Kendall took a seat next to her uncle on a huge, curved sofa, each section with its own cup-holder and easily sprung leg rest.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

“Got anything stronger?”

He chuckled. “I take it you met Maggie.”

“She’s why you’re hiding out down here?”

“Nah, just taking in the game. I’ll go up later.”

Kendall and her uncle shared a passion for college football. They spent a few minutes discussing the Badgers’ chances for the season, and then watched as the pro game began on the large-screen TV.

Kendall couldn’t get her mind off her father and Cottingham. “Where did he meet her?”

“Didn’t ask.”

“You know she’s only with him because of me.”

“You? How do you figure?”

“She’s been trying to wear two hats lately, attorney and investigator. She tried to muscle in when she found out Gray Glausson was going to hire a PI to find his niece. I heard it from the guy who got the job.”

“If he didn’t hire her, why would she care about it?”

“That bitch always cares—it’s what she does—sticks her nose into everything, considers herself Eau Claire’s Charlie’s Angel. Good thing I haven’t been talking to Dad about the case. She’s sleazy enough to facilitate a little pillow-talk to pry information out of him.”

Brynn’s apartment was back in reasonable order by early afternoon. The glass items that had been smashed would have to be replaced, but she’d gotten them at garage sales and would find others to replace them. Morrie arranged for a leaded-glass expert, a woman named Francesca Main, to come over and look at Brynn’s door. She’d called Brynn and made an appointment for the next day.

Feeling better now that her apartment had been restored to order, Brynn was hungry and dwelling on Thanksgiving dinners of the past, the kind with turkey and all the side dishes. She loved the stuffing. A great big helping of dressing along with some white meat, maybe a little gravy on top, and you could keep all the extras. She’d just have to decide if she wanted it bad enough to call her mother. No, probably not. Maybe Morrie would bring her some leftovers like he had last year.

Kendall’s key burned in Brynn’s pocket. She hadn’t had much time with the laptop before she’d seen Kendall pull into the parking area.

She crossed the hall and let herself in, surprised to see two other laptops on the counter. They had to be related to the case. She took a seat in front of the three computers and massaged her fingers—she’d repay Kendall and Nash.

16

Nash left home after dinner on the pretext of dropping off his son at a friend’s house, not intending to hurry back. His in-laws were decent people, but after listening to their idle chitchat all day, he needed a break.

The Glausson baby never left his mind. The first thread they had to unravel would be the child molesters—they had to find the baby pervs, disgusting as that would be. He had to rely on Kendall to find a way to track them down, since his contacts were long gone.

He dropped Ryan off at an address a few blocks away from the Rat Pak and took a chance that Kendall might be around. Her car was gone, but a light was on in Brynn’s place. Funny she’d be home at this hour on the holiday. He decided to stop in, see if she knew when Kendall would be back, and maybe ask her if she needed a hand with anything.

Brynn answered the door, the white cat content in her arms. “Kendall’s not here.”

“Mind if I come in?” He thought she looked at him suspiciously, but she opened the door to let him pass. “The place looks good. Must have been a lot of work.”

“I had help. They were here for three hours.”

Nash wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk to the girl. At first he’d been curious about her relationship to Kendall, but that question had been answered when he found out they lived across the hall from each other.

“They did a great job.” She didn’t ask him to stay. He noticed a small table across the room with a deck of cards on it. Must be where she did her thing.

“Thought I’d ask you to tell my fortune.” He’d kill some time until Kendall showed up.

Her eyes narrowed. Or maybe he’d imagined it; she was wearing a lightly tinted pair of sunglasses. “I don’t tell fortunes, I do readings.”

“Whatever. I can pay you if you want.”

She put the cat on the floor. “All right. Fifty dollars.”

“Fifty? You don’t come cheap.” He opened his wallet and offered her the bills, certain she expected him to decline and leave.

After grabbing the money, she led him over to the table holding the cards and offered him a seat on a wire ice cream chair he hoped would accommodate his weight.

“I’ll be right back.”

When she came out, he had a hard time hiding his astonishment at her transformation. Brynn’s short, white locks had been replaced by a hairpiece so natural, if he hadn’t known it wasn’t hers, he’d have never guessed. Glistening strands of silvery-blonde hair fell to below her narrow shoulders, and wispy bangs graced her forehead, nearly meeting the pale blonde eyebrows she’d penciled in. Her amazing eyes glittered in the candlelight. She looked like a magical nymph, a character straight from a fantasy film.

Silently, she took the chair across from him, the draped white gown she wore nearly dusting the polished wood floor. Nash made an effort to keep from gaping, thinking the getup alone made the fifty worth it.

“How come you only look like this when you work?”

She shrugged. “People like it.”

She handed him a deck of ordinary playing cards, their backs decorated with medieval peacocks. “Shuffle the cards, then place the deck in the center of the table. While you’re shuffling, think about a question you want answered.”

When he’d finished, she picked up the deck, holding it sandwiched between her palms. “What is your question?”

“The Glausson baby; is she alive?”

“The question has to be about you.”

“Okay. Will I find her?”

Brynn gave him an exasperated look. “I’m not sure that’ll work.”

She turned over four rows of four cards each, face down. “The row closest to you represents your past, the next one, the present, then your future, and the row farthest from you will reveal the answer to your question.

“Now turn over the cards in the row closest to you.”

After they were turned, she studied them. “You’ve had some trouble in your past. Danger, maybe failure, a lost job?” She looked at him for confirmation.

Nash remained stoic despite the accuracy of her words. She could have found out a lot about him from Kendall or online, but why? He didn’t think Kendall would have discussed him with her. She couldn’t have known he’d be here tonight, or that he’d ask her to do a reading. After he’d turned over the row representing the present, she said, “There’s a woman in your life. Things are difficult between you.”

He tried to sit straight in the uncomfortable little chair, feeling like the temperature in the room had gone up ten degrees. Stone-faced, he turned over the third row.

“Your future.” Brynn frowned. “Your relationship with the woman is going to change. She’s leaving.”

Nash cleared his throat. How had she managed to find his sore spot? Things weren’t great with Shari since he’d announced he was going to work with the police to find Philly, but leave him? He didn’t see it, although there had been a lot of things he hadn’t seen until it had been too late. He’d talk to his wife when he had a chance to be alone with her. Then he caught himself—this was stupid—everyone knew these readers were phony.

“As you turn over the last row, think about your question.”

Brynn studied the cards he overturned, her face expressionless.

Impatient, he asked, “Well, am I going to find the kid?”

“The cards aren’t specific on something like this. Two of them represent danger, possibly failure, but the other two show success. They aren’t speaking very clearly. I told you it might not work.”

Nash shifted his weight; he was uncomfortable as hell and out fifty bucks. “Anything else?”

“Yes, one more thing. Your car is pulling out of the parking lot.”

“My car? What’s that got to do with—”

Suddenly he realized she was looking out the window.

He leapt up so fast, the small chair overturned, frightening the cat and sending it scurrying under the couch. He got to the window just in time to see his car turning into the street and remembered—he’d told Ryan where he’d be.

“That goddamned kid!”

When Nash arrived at home, Shari and her parents were playing Scrabble at the dining room table. Shari looked up from the game. “Where’s Ryan? Is he spending the night with Todd?”

Nash nodded toward the kitchen.

She left the table and joined him at the granite island. “What’s wrong? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. He
is
having an overnight—at the police station.”

She paled. “What?”

“The good news is he won’t be arrested for car theft, because it was our car he drove off in while I was talking to a witness. I had a cop I know pull him over. They’re going to hold him overnight even though we won’t be insisting on his arrest.”

Nash stopped her when she opened her mouth to protest. “Don’t look so outraged. If I didn’t have contacts he would have been booked. He won’t be put in with any other prisoners, so you can calm down. The kid needs to have some accountability, Shari. Crap, he took the damn car from right under my nose.”

Her mouth formed an angry line. “
None
of this is good news, Adam. What was he thinking? I know he’s angry because we took away his driving privileges, but this? I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

She called him Adam. Never a good sign, but he could see she was near tears and took her in his arms. “We’re doing everything we can for him. Maybe he’ll shape up when he graduates in June and has to make his way in the world by himself.”

Shari felt good in his arms. He still loved her, but the gap between them he’d hoped would close when he’d left the force wasn’t narrowing. They’d been through so much together that he’d assumed they were past the worst life had to throw their way. He felt her tears on his neck and became aware that while she wasn’t pulling away, she wasn’t sharing the embrace.

It was after eleven by the time Kendall had Ryan Nashlund situated in a holding cell and made sure everyone on duty understood the situation. Luckily, Schoenfuss was off for the weekend. Lipske was on desk duty and had agreed to look in on the boy at regular intervals.

The kid tried to act tough, but Kendall wasn’t fooled by his cool act—his bobbing Adam’s apple and flushed complexion gave him away. Ryan’s bravado despite the situation he’d gotten himself into reminded her of his father. She wondered if Nash realized how much they were alike.

When she got back to the apartment, she knocked on Brynn’s door. “It’s Kendall.”

Brynn opened the door, the white cat at her feet. “Morrie brought me some turkey. Do you want a sandwich?”

It was just like Brynn to begin a conversation far from the matter at hand. But it had been hours since Kendall’s uncomfortable repast at her father’s house. Luckily, her cousin and his wife had shown up with their new baby, whose happy jabbering had taken some of the tension from the air during the meal. She hadn’t eaten since.

“Sure. Got some white meat?”

They ate sitting across from each other at the counter. “Morrie brought this?”

Brynn nodded. “He did last year, too.”

“Didn’t your mother ask you over for dinner?”

“She always asks—I don’t go.”

Kendall didn’t pursue it. The girl would tell her about her mother when she was ready. “Your place looks great.”

Brynn patted her lips with a napkin. “I had help.” She reached to the side of the counter and handed Kendall a sheet of paper. Written in a perfectly executed cursive, were the names of three men and one woman. All of them had addresses and phone numbers below their names.

None of the names were familiar. “What is this?”

“I used your computer,” Brynn admitted. “I wanted to help.”

Damn. She should have asked Brynn for help before there was any chance of getting her in trouble. “Before you tell me anything about these names, is there any way your searches can be traced back to you? Or me, since it’s my computer?” Kendall knew it was possible to do an anonymous trace; she just had no idea how difficult it was to accomplish.

“No. I did it so it can’t be traced.” Brynn stood up to clear the table. “It just takes longer that way.”

“Okay, who are these people?”

“They’re registered pedophiles that live within a two-hundred mile radius of Eau Claire, and they—” she hesitated before whispering her next words, “they all like babies.”

Kendall folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. “You heard me talking to Nash last night.”

Brynn nodded. “Am I in trouble now? It’s all right if I am. I want you to find the baby.”

“No, you aren’t in trouble. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. After you told me about meeting the Glausson women and predicting danger for them, I had to check you out. You understand that, don’t you?”

Brynn shrank lower in her chair. “Yes.”

“I talked to your parole officer, and we came to the conclusion that your only connection to the murders was your reading with Mrs. Glausson and her daughter.” She saw Brynn’s brow furrow. “I’m not going to debate your psychic abilities, or those of Vadoma. That topic isn’t germane to this discussion.

“Officer Fournier gave me permission to have you do some computer research for me providing you’re supervised. I agreed to the supervision part, so no more sneaking around, okay?”

Brynn reached into her pocket and slid the key to Kendall’s apartment toward her.

Kendall handed it back. “Keep it for now. It would be easier for us if I could let you work when I wasn’t home, but for now we’ll follow procedure. I’ll see what I can do to get you off probation, since you only have a few months left. If I can show the Parole Board you’ve helped out on a critical police matter, it will go a long way toward getting you off of it right away.”

Kendall’s cell chimed, and she stepped into the living room to talk to Nash.

“How did it go with Ryan?” he asked.

“He played Mr. Cool. Didn’t want a soda or magazines. Lipske’s keeping an eye on him tonight.” She heard him expel a long breath.

“My life is so fucked up.”

Surprised at the personal comment, Kendall didn’t know what to say. “Sorry.”

“You on duty tomorrow?”

“No. I have the day off. I’ll come in early, though, and meet you when you pick up Ryan. We can talk then.”

“Okay. Did you have a nice dinner with your family?”

She snorted. “My dad is dating Maggie Cottingham, and she was at dinner today.”

“You kiddin’ me?”

“Wish I was. But it gets better—she gave me a tip—actually something interesting.”

“No way.”

“Way. Turns out she’d been hired to find an eighteen-year-old girl who went missing right after that virgin email thing hit cyberspace.”

“How come you guys didn’t know about it?”

“Probably because the girl’s disappearance coincided with her graduation and eighteenth birthday. And she had a history of running away.”

“Right—and I suppose all her favorite things were missing with her.”

“You got it. Cottingham hit a wall with it at about the same time the parents’ funds ran out, but she swears she had nowhere else to go with it.”

“Yeah, right. You think that email business could be tied to the Glaussons?”

“I don’t know. I did for a while, but I don’t think it’s too likely anymore. If I can find the girl, it’ll free up more of my time since that’s one of two cases on my plate right now.”

“I’m gonna let you go. Things are a little dicey here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kendall walked back to Brynn. “How would you like to start tonight?”